Rest and Be Thankful (50 page)

“Mimi is right,” Sally said, “I can’t imagine you climbing into an upper berth ornamented with these.”

Mimi said, “Nor could you even hold them in your lap for the journey to Sweetwater. Milt Jerks is waiting outside with his newest station wagon. You daren’t risk scratching one of his beloved red leather seats, far less putting one of my eyes out or maiming Bob for life. You’ll just have to leave them.”

Jackson, who was standing beside Mrs. Gunn and Mrs. Peel, ready to help with last emergencies, said, “Leave them. I’ll find big box. I’ll send.”

“Jackson, you’re an angel!” Carla cried. “How wonderful! I did want a memento of the West, you know.”

“Fine,” Mimi said philosophically, wondering how antlers would look on terra-cotta walls under a black ceiling. “We can always start a vogue for hoop-la. We’ll teach our guests to throw their hats on the points, like the way Bert and Ned do it. No drink until a hat is caught and held. Why, that
will
save lots of money. Now, what about that train we have to catch?”

“You all look wonderful,” Mrs. Peel said, as she escorted them towards the station wagon.

“Mimi made me throw away my hat,” Carla said. “She lent me this beret. All right?”

“Very much so,” Sally said.

“When are you coming to New York?”

Sally smiled and shook her head. But Mrs. Peel said, “I’ll be there. I’ve got some work to finish.”

“Let us know when you are coming,” Mimi said.

“Don’t forget that,” Robert O’Farlan said.

“And I’m coming back here whenever you ask me again,” Carla said.

“It was an interesting month,” Karl Koffing said.

“I’ll send you postal cards and keep you amused meanwhile,” Earl Grubbock said, with a broad grin on his face.

As farewells were being repeated Jim Brent came round the corner of the house. He had, Mimi thought, timed it beautifully. He said goodbye briefly to each of them, giving each a warm smile and a friendly handshake. Then they climbed into the station wagon, while Milt Jerks looked at his watch and shook his head. Jim Brent stood beside Sally, while Mrs. Peel and Mrs. Gunn tried not to be sentimental (they both were easily saddened when the word goodbye was said, especially when those who said goodbye looked as if they didn’t want to say it), and Jackson waved a fourteen-point antler.

Carla twisted round to watch Sally and Jim. “They look just exactly right together,” she said with difficulty. (She shared Mrs. Peel’s and Mrs. Gunn’s weakness.) “I know they’ll be terribly terribly happy.” She sighed, wiped her eyes, and turned away as the trees closed in and the house was blotted out except for a lazy spiral of smoke. She wondered what it would be like to be Sally, standing there beside Jim Brent. Better than having money like Esther Park, or even fame like Mrs. Peel. Then she looked at Mimi’s face, and she fell silent.

The others were silent too. They looked out of the windows to see the last of the mountains. Milt Jerks did the talking. They were late, but this new car was a good one, plenty of power to it. And people didn’t have to worry about the train because it didn’t pay much attention to timetables: you could rely on it being later than you were. They listened politely, for they knew it was a mark of honour that he himself had come to drive them to Three Springs. There wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do to oblige Miss Whirrelton, he told them for the third time.

“Well, I’ll be—” Earl said suddenly, interrupting Milt Jerks. He pointed, and then took off his hat to cheer. Over the brow of a hill came Ned and Robb and Bert, riding at full speed, racing the car.

“We’ll see about that,” Milt Jerks said, with a grin, and stepped on the accelerator.

“Goodbye,” Carla called, although they couldn’t possibly hear her. She waved wildly, as all the others were waving.

Then the car twisted out of sight, leaving Ned and Bert and Robb grouped together on the hillside. They were waving too, sweeping their hats in wide circles above their heads, while Ned’s piercing cowboy yell echoed across the valley.

So she wants a memento of the West, Chuck said reflectively. He looked at the antlers, he looked at Jackson, and then he looked at the rest of the cowpokes who had gathered round.

“Memento,” Jackson repeated. “That’s what Carla said.”

“She meant a souvenir, something to remember us by,” Robb explained.

“Sure wouldn’t want to disappoint her.” Chuck studied the large box which Jackson had unearthed in the storeroom and dragged up to the corral. He eyed the antlers again. “I think they’ll look kind of lonely in there. Better make it a real good memento.”

The others nodded.

Bert looked round the corral for inspiration.

Ned looked too, picked up a worn horseshoe, and flung it neatly into the box.

Robb found part of an ancient bridle and added that.

Ned discovered two large nails, bent and rusted. “Real genuine antiques,” he said.

Jackson found an old saddle blanket, with more holes than pattern left.

Chuck added two empty cans of Sheridan Export and a can of baked beans.

Robb produced a cracked stirrup and a piece of frayed rope.

Bert returned from his voyage of exploration with six inches of horse’s tail, tied with a piece of string and decorated with a stalk of Indian paintbrush.

Chuck next arrived, with some corral sweepings on a shovel. “Just to give the right aroma,” he said, as he emptied it into the box.

“Atmosphere,” Bert said. “That was one of Mimi’s favourite words. Used to think it meant something you breathed. Seems that words mean a lot of different things in different places.” “Darling,” for instance. “Angel,” for another.

Chuck thought over atmosphere. Weren’t no useful kind of word. “Memento.” Well, “memento” might do. You goddamned sonofabitchn old memento, you. That was a good word, come in right useful. It had a real sound to it.

“She’s as full as she’ll go,” Jackson said. “Okay?”

“Close her up,” Chuck said.

They roped the box thoroughly. And they solemnly nailed on a large label, while Ned searched in his little diary for Mimi’s address.

“Hey, Jim, will you step over here for a minute?” Bert called, as Jim and Sally came up to the corral for their evening ride. “It’s Carla’s memento,” he explained, while Jackson found a pen.

Then they all grouped round Jim as he printed the address. “It needs just a touch more,” he said, and he decorated the label with a bowlegged man, a laughing horse, and a contemplative cow.

* * *

No, Mrs. Peel had said after dinner, she really didn’t feel like riding tonight. And so Sally and Jim, trying not to look too relieved, had set out by themselves.

Mrs. Peel sat in front of the fire, rearranging her life. There was, she had discovered, a considerable amount to be rearranged. But perhaps it was good for one to have a general overhaul in plans every now and again. Then, through the quiet hall, came the sound of laughter from the kitchen. She recognised Jackson’s deep voice. Jackson... How was he going to fit in to all these new plans? She rose and went towards the kitchen. He was talking about some memento which he had brought down to the house, all ready for delivery to New York.

“Jackson,” Mrs. Peel said, “I’m so glad to be able to see you. We’ve a few things to talk about. What about your vacation? And after that?” How can I start telling him I can’t afford to pay him any more, she wondered miserably.

“Well...” Jackson said. And then he stood, turning his hat in his hand as if his thoughts were moving in a similar circle and he hardly knew where to cut through the chain to find the first one. He looked at Mrs. Gunn for help.

“No, you do it,” she said.

Mrs. Peel stared at Jackson’s face. “Why, Jackson, do you want to stay here? Always?”

He nodded.

“But won’t you find it lonely?”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Not lonely here. Enough people. Enough time. Real friends.”

“And to think I’ve been worried about you all these weeks! I’ve been avoiding you, I didn’t want to hear that you were leaving. For we couldn’t have done without you, Jackson.”

“That’s the one thing that’s worrying Jackson right now,” Mrs. Gunn said. “If he stays here, how are you going to set out travelling for California?”

“I’m not going there. Oh, yes, I know we were travelling there when I insisted on taking the wrong road. Remember, Jackson? But I’ve changed my ideas, just like Jackson. I’ll wait here for the wedding, and then I’m going back to New York and finish some work.”

“We’ll miss you,” Mrs. Gunn said.

Mrs. Peel looked at her quickly. “But I’ll be back here in the spring.” Then she half smiled. “I’ll certainly come back every summer for a visit,” she said. Then she looked at Jackson again. “Can Jim give you a job?” she asked anxiously.

“We’ll be taking on some new hands next spring,” Mrs. Gunn said. “We’ll be needing them. And in the winter—well, we need a good handyman around the place. Chuck thinks he will retire for the bad months this year. He’s got a nice little cabin outside of Sweetwater, and he’ll take it easy there for the real cold weather. Ned’s going to Arizona for the winter. And Bert thinks he’ll get himself a job there, too, as corral boss on a dude ranch. Guess he figures dudes are easy after this month. So Jim has asked Robb to stay on here and help keep things going. And there’s room for Jackson too.”

“But won’t you all be isolated? When the snows come?”

“Once the snow-plough clears the road we can get down into Sweetwater. Jackson’s aiming to do that quite a lot, aren’t you, Jackson?”

For the first time in her life Mrs. Peel saw Jackson blush. Then she looked at Mrs. Gunn’s laughing face. Jackson, confused but smiling, said he was needed at the corral.

“Funny thing about weddings,” Mrs. Gunn said cheerfully, as she looked after Jackson walking quickly towards the ranch, “as soon as one happens several happen. As if they were catching, like measles.”

“Jackson? Married?”

“Oh, it will take him the winter to make up his mind. But I’m thinking he’s caught this time. She’s a nice girl. Lives over in Sweetwater. Wish Ned would look at that kind.” Mrs. Gunn shook her head dolefully.

“Is Ned in trouble again?”

“Sure. Didn’t you see her sitting over by the chutes at the rodeo on Saturday, with Ned perched beside her on the rail? Pretty as anything. A blonde with blue eyes. Wants to be a rodeo star some day. Ned was disappointed your guests were all going away, as she could have come out here to help me.”

“Perhaps this one will marry him,” Mrs. Peel said. “But, of course, it is just possible that Ned doesn’t really want to marry anyone. Isn’t it?”

“Could be,” Mrs. Gunn agreed. “Anyway, we’re back to normal again.” She began arranging the newly cooked doughnuts on an outsize platter. Tomorrow the boys would be in here for breakfast.

* * *

Mrs. Peel went into the garden. She walked there for a little. Then she looked at the house, and she stopped walking to stand hesitatingly before it. In the quiet evening it loomed dark and lonely.

Yes, I know, Mrs. Peel answered it. You aren’t the kind of house that should be left dark and silent. You like people. And you could have people: you could have Jim and his wife and their children and all their friends. I don’t amount to much, compared to all that, do I? I’m not very good for you all alone by myself. Of course, I could have guests here in the summer. But I’ve always depended on Sally to cope with a house full of guests. (And, what’s more, I’ve got to spend more time on working and less time on people.) From now on Sally is going to have her own life quite apart from mine. And I must shape my own life quite apart from hers. But what about you? Jim can’t buy you back—not yet. And he won’t live here until he can. Solve that problem for me, will you?

She began to pace slowly back and forward, stopping now and again to look at the house. There’s one possible way, she thought... If only I can make it sound practical, intelligent, and cheerful. You’ve got to help me, she told the waiting house.

She heard Sally’s voice down by the bridge, and then Jim laughed. She waited beside the house. They were taking a long time to come. Mrs. Peel smiled. Well, she could always bury herself in work until the wedding; and then, after that, New York was a safe distance from a newly married couple. She waited patiently until she saw them stroll leisurely on to the lawn. “Sally, Jim!” she called, and surprised them, for they had not seen her in the shadows. They probably wouldn’t have seen anyone, even in broad daylight.

“Hello,” Jim said, “what are you doing out here? You’ll catch cold, Margaret. The dew’s heavy tonight.”

“I’m too excited to catch cold,” she said, smiling. “I’ve just had the most intelligent idea, and it’s so simple I just can’t think why it never dawned on me before. Jim, would you buy back this house? I don’t want all the money at once, for it would all get used up too quickly I know. What I need is a steady income for the next eight or ten years. So if you would buy the house, and pay me a certain amount every year until you’ve bought it completely, I’d be so happy. You see, with a steady income for the next few years, I could work as I want to work. I’d be able to write what I want to write.”

“But, Margaret,” Sally said, “you’ve never loved a house as much as you’ve loved this one. Perhaps you’ll have a success with this play you are writing, and you won’t have to worry about a steady income.”

“But I also love travelling,” Margaret Peel reminded her. “And I’m beginning to feel the most awful homesickness for New York. Don’t laugh. It’s perfectly true.”

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone,” Sally said worriedly.

“Why not? It will be a completely new kind of adventure. I’m looking forward to it, frankly.”

Sally looked at Jim. She was a little hurt, a little bewildered. But it was true: Margaret had always liked change. “I had hoped you’d settle here, and perhaps write. You’ve never given yourself much time to do that.” Then she stopped persuading, simply because their long friendship had been built on freedom of choice. For years their inclinations had coincided. Now they were separating.